Alabama's Longest Nitrogen Gas Execution Sparks Renewed Outrage Over 'Humane' Death Penalty Method

MONTGOMERY, Ala.  — The execution of Anthony Boyd by nitrogen gas in Alabama on Thursday marked the longest use of the untested method in U.S. history, stretching nearly 40 minutes amid convulsions, labored breathing and witness accounts of prolonged agony. 

At 37 minutes from the start of the procedure until death was declared, Boyd's final moments have reignited fierce debates over whether the oxygen-deprivation technique — touted by states as a painless alternative to lethal injection — constitutes cruel and unusual punishment.

Boyd, 51, convicted in the 1998 murder of a 19-year-old woman during a robbery, was pronounced dead at 6:33 p.m. CDT at the William C. Holman Correctional Facility in Atmore. Strapped to a gurney with a mask delivering pure nitrogen, he gasped for air more than 225 times over 15 to 20 minutes, his body shuddering violently in what witnesses described as "psychological torment." 

The spectacle, observed by reporters, family members and a spiritual advisor, unfolded just two days ago, drawing immediate condemnation from death penalty opponents and even a pointed Supreme Court dissent warning of "excruciating suffocation."

It's not like falling asleep; it's drowning in reverse.

— Dr. Joel Zivot, anesthesiologist

Alabama officials defended the process as adhering to protocol, but critics pointed to a likely equipment malfunction — a faulty seal on the mask allowing oxygen leaks — as the culprit for the extended suffering. 

"This wasn't an execution; it was torture," said Rev. Jeff Hood, Boyd's spiritual advisor, who held the inmate's hand during the ordeal. The incident is the fourth nitrogen gas execution nationwide and the third in Alabama since the method's debut in January 2024, each one plagued by similar signs of distress that undermine state claims of a swift, humane death.

A Drawn-Out Ordeal

The execution began at 5:50 p.m., when observation curtains opened to reveal Boyd restrained on the gurney. Moments later, Warden Terry Raybon read the death warrant. Boyd, maintaining his innocence to the end, delivered a defiant final statement: "I didn’t kill anybody. I didn’t participate in killing anybody... There is no justice in this state. It’s all political. It’s revenge motivated... I want all my people to keep fighting. Let’s get it."

Nitrogen flow commenced around 5:55 p.m., with Hood reciting Bible verses beside him. Within two minutes, Boyd began thrashing against his restraints, his eyes rolling back in convulsions that lasted at least a minute. What followed was a harrowing display: deep, shuddering gasps that shook his frame, transitioning from vigorous heaves to shallower, frantic breaths. 

Witnesses counted more than 225 such inhalations, with Boyd's brother, present in the viewing room, remarking after about 75, "It’s like he’s gasping for air."

The final deep breath came around 6:16 p.m., with no visible movement after 6:20 p.m. Yet the chamber curtains remained open until 6:27 p.m., as medical checks confirmed consciousness had faded. 

Alabama Department of Corrections Commissioner John Hamm later acknowledged it as "the longest" nitrogen execution but insisted it stayed "within the protocol," declining to specify the gas flow duration.

Hood, positioned inches from Boyd, spotted the issue firsthand: a gap in the mask's lip seal, possibly worsened by his own proximity to the inmate. "I don’t think the mask was on correctly... There was a gap," Hood told reporters afterward. He decried the state's protocol as "absolutely incompetent," arguing it failed to deliver the promised rapid hypoxia — oxygen deprivation leading to unconsciousness in seconds and death within five minutes.

Boyd's case carried additional layers of controversy. Convicted alongside three others in the shooting death of Molly Elliott, he had long protested his guilt, citing no physical evidence linking him to the crime and flaws in his 1999 trial, including ineffective counsel and unreliable witnesses. His asthma and vertigo, conditions that could exacerbate suffocation, were raised in appeals but dismissed. 

Hours before the execution, a Supreme Court dissent by Justice Sonia Sotomayor — joined by Justices Elena Kagan and Ketanji Brown Jackson — lambasted the method, predicting up to seven minutes of "conscious, excruciating suffocation" and urging a firing squad as a swifter alternative.

Nitrogen Hypoxia: From Promise to Peril

Nitrogen gas executions emerged as a response to chronic issues with lethal injections, including botched intravenous lines and drug shortages. Alabama lawmakers authorized the method in 2018, hailing it as modeled on industrial accidents where workers die peacefully from inert gas exposure. 

Four states — Alabama, Louisiana, Mississippi and Oklahoma — now permit it, with Arkansas adopting it recently and Ohio and Nebraska considering bills. Only Alabama and Louisiana have carried it out, however, and both debut executions revealed cracks in the facade of mercy.

The pioneer case was Kenneth Eugene Smith in January 2024, Alabama's first nitrogen execution and the first novel method in the U.S. since 1982. Smith, whose 2022 lethal injection attempt failed after hours of vein-hunting, writhed and shook for two to three minutes, then gasped intermittently for another five to six. He held his spiritual advisor's hand until the end, his death declared after 22 minutes — far beyond projections. 

Six months later, in September 2024, Alabama executed Alan Eugene Miller, whose prior lethal injection was aborted due to IV failures. Miller convulsed for about two minutes, then labored for breaths over 15 to 20 minutes total. Witnesses branded it "botched," with shaking and restraint-pulling that echoed Smith's torment.

RELATED | I’m an anesthesiologist. Kenneth Smith’s execution by nitrogen gas was far from ‘textbook’

Louisiana entered the fray in March 2025 with Jessie Hoffman Jr., ending a 15-year hiatus on executions. Hoffman's 19-minute gas execution was marred by convulsions and shaking. His Buddhist faith fueled a First Amendment challenge, arguing the suffocation sensation violated his breathing meditation practices. A federal judge briefly halted it, but an appeals court reversed, citing state interests. 

Boyd's Thursday execution shattered records at 37 minutes, amplifying calls for scrutiny. Veterinary experts, who deem nitrogen unethical for animal euthanasia due to evident distress in mammals, have long warned of human parallels: panic, seizures and "air hunger" — an overwhelming urge to breathe.

Legal Storms and Constitutional Clashes

More than 20 lawsuits have assailed nitrogen protocols since 2024, invoking the Eighth Amendment's prohibition on cruel punishment. Smith's case reached the Supreme Court, which greenlit the execution despite Sotomayor's dissent decrying "unnecessary suffering." 

Hoffman's religious claim tested First Amendment bounds, while Boyd's suit spotlighted trial errors and protocol secrecy — heavily redacted documents that courts say hinder due process challenges.

Anesthesiologists and pulmonologists testify that hypoxia induces "superadded pain," with mask fit critical to sealing out oxygen. Leaks, as in Boyd's case, prolong the process, turning a supposed gentle fade into drawn-out terror. 

"It's not like falling asleep; it's drowning in reverse," said Dr. Joel Zivot, an anesthesiologist who has reviewed autopsy evidence from similar cases.

Courts have largely deferred to states, but dissents like Sotomayor's in Boyd's appeal — issued mere hours before his death — underscore growing judicial unease. She argued firing squads, unconsciousness in seconds, better align with evolving standards of decency. Boyd himself had petitioned for one, a request denied.

Transparency gaps compound the issues. Execution protocols remain classified in redacted filings, shielding details from public or expert review. Nitrogen's risks extend beyond the chamber: leaks have prompted staff waivers, and a 2023 Georgia plant mishap killed six workers. 

Suppliers, from gas providers to mask manufacturers, face boycotts for abetting what critics call state-sanctioned killing.

A Method's Future in Question

As nitrogen spreads, so does skepticism. Mississippi and Oklahoma authorize it but have balked at use amid litigation fears. 

Ohio Republicans, inspired by Alabama's early claims of "success," advanced bills post-Smith, despite expert pushback. Yet each execution peels back the method's veneer, exposing not innovation but iteration on old flaws: botched mechanics, hidden protocols and human cost.

Death penalty foes see opportunity in the glare. "These aren't seamless; they're spectacles of suffering," said Robert Dunham, executive director of the Death Penalty Information Center. 

With 2,468 people on death row nationwide and executions hovering around 20 annually, nitrogen's stumbles bolster abolition drives in states like California and Pennsylvania.

Alabama, unbowed, plans more. Hamm told reporters Thursday that refinements are underway, though details were sparse. 

For Boyd's loved ones, refining means nothing. His brother, exiting the chamber in tears, vowed to "keep fighting," echoing the inmate's last words.

The Supreme Court's shadow looms large. As Sotomayor wrote in her Boyd dissent, "The court enables what may well be unnecessary suffering." 

Whether that enables a tipping point — toward reform, abolition or yet another method's trial — remains the open question in America's enduring execution experiment. 

Source: Death Penalty News, Editor, Agencies October 25, 2025. 

"One is absolutely sickened, not by the crimes that the wicked have committed,
but by the punishments that the good have inflicted."

— Oscar Wilde